Lost Girl
by Jasmk16
Summary: "Think about it Emma. Why would your parents want you now? You're not a kid anymore. They can have a kid anytime they want." His dark eyes sparkled in the moonlight when the woman's mouth open and closed, speechless to the comment. "They'll just wind up breaking your heart again."


**AN: **This is my first OUAT story.

I do **not** own ONCE :T

**Swan Queen** eventually!

I hope you like it ;)

* * *

The ground was uncomfortable. Despite the countless ways the blankets had been accommodated it was still a pain to lie on the dirt and try to get some rest. It wasn't the discomfort of the ground that awoke the woman. The sounds of children crying out stirred the young sheriff awake in the middle of the cold night. Startled by the sounds Emma jumped to her feet and drew her sword. She looked around to see if everyone else had been awoken by the cries. To her dismay they all appeared to be sleeping despite the continuous cries.

"Hey you guys wake up!" Emma hissed in the direction of her parents. They didn't stir as the cries continued to grow loud. Emma ground her teeth, annoyed with her sleeping parents, and walked away from the camp in attempt to find the source of the crying.

"You hear them, too?" a voice asked a few feet behind Emma.

Emma jumped back raising the sword in front of herself. She turned to find a young boy leaning against a tree with his gaze fixed directly on her.

"You're Emma right?" he asked ignoring the weapon pointing at him.

"I wonder why they can't hear them crying," he asked gesturing in the direction of where everyone else remained asleep.

"Who are you?" Emma growled, ignoring his question.

"Oh, did I forget to introduce myself again? I'm Peter, Peter Pan," he grinned proudly.

Emma was quick to pounce on him. She grabbed him by the collar of the shirt and slammed him against the tree, the blade of the sword resting below the boy's neck.

"Oh you've got fire in you. I like fire," Peter laughed in amusement.

"Where's my son?" Emma hissed pressing the blade harder against the boy's neck.

"Henry's still alive if that's what you're worried about," Peter answered nonchalantly.

The sheriff was growing impatient with the amused boy quickly. His arrogance was beginning to infuriate her. "Why'd you take him?" she managed through clenched teeth.

"He's a very special boy, Emma," he shrugged.

"I know that," Emma snapped. "That doesn't answer my question. What do you want with him?"

Peter laughed. "I came here to see who I was up against; the _savior_. I got to say I'm not disappointed." Again he grinned at Emma, who was quickly losing the last of her patience.

"Are you going to tell me how I'll never see him again." It wasn't a question. Emma could see the young boy was taking it as a game because he found it to his amuse. She wasn't about to sit around and let him continue with his sick pretense. She had to find Henry before things got out of hand. This land wasn't familiar to her and that only worked to frighten the woman more for the sake of her son's safety.

"No, I'm going to help you find him," Peter smirked. "I'm going to give you a map. A map that will lead you straight to your son." He held up the said document. It was folded up in the boy's hand as he waved it in front of the woman.

"If this some kind of trap," Emma began as she stepped away from the strange boy, her hand secure around the sword.

Peter chuckled nevertheless. "I may not be the most well _behaved_ boy on the island, but I always keep my promises." He assured her.

"Why are you giving it to me?" Emma asked when the boy handed her the folded paper.

"It's not just about finding Henry. It's about how you find him and well _Emma_ you're the only one who can." Peter smirked.

Emma didn't like the way her emphasized her name. It was almost like he tasted the word, like there was more behind the name itself that Emma herself did not understand. As she unfolded the piece of paper it released a blue type of dust in the woman's face. She waved it away and looked down at the paper only to see that it there was nothing written on it. "It's blank, she growled.

"You'll only be able to read the map when you stop denying who you really are," Peter Pan said his face for once serious. His dark eyes stared at her with an almost ominous intent behind them.

Emma stared at him with a puzzled expression. A cold shiver ran down her back as she tried her best not the break away from the staring contest. "What the hell does that mean?" she managed, her voice sounding stronger than she'd hoped for.

Peter only chuckled before looking down at the map, the sheriff followed his gaze. She looked up again to find the mysterious boy was gone. She growled in frustration before folding up the map and putting it away safely in the pouch she wore around her waist.

The sounds of children crying filled her ears once more as she made her way back to the camp site. She sat down where she'd been previously sleeping and tried to meditate on the boy's words. What could he have meant by denying who she was? She knew who she was. She was Emma Swan. Daughter of… Well she knew her _birth_ parents were asleep just a few away from where she was, but did that really make her their daughter? Sure they'd given birth to her, but did it really mean anything? They hadn't been around for twenty-eight years. They'd missed every fever, every tantrum, every stage she'd ever been through. Where had they been during those long cold nights spent hoping that someone would wrap their arms around her to keep her warm? Where had they been every time she'd fallen and hurt herself, when she'd had no one to kiss her boo boo better or make her a soup when she'd grow ill with a cold?

Emma felt a wave of sadness overwhelm her. She'd been alone her entire life, without anyone to care for her. The one person she'd opened herself up to had run off the first chance they had. That was why she was always so cold, so well put together. She had learned to guard herself to avoid ever going through what she endured with after Neal abandoned her. She'd gone close to opening herself once more though. It had been so close that she'd almost decided to let the person know how she felt about them, but it was all thrown out the window the moment she blamed the woman for a crime she'd clearly been framed for.

The crying made it difficult to concentrate on anything. It reminded her of the times spent in the forsaken system. As much as she struggled to shove aside the memories of her time in the system all the crying did was stir up unwanted thoughts of the time spent in it. Emma did her best to keep the thoughts locked away in the back of her mind as she settled once more over the blankets. Perhaps some sleep would help keep them there, at least that's what she told herself as she closed her eyes, allowing the wave of sleep claim her.

**[x]**

_A tiny three year old ran up the hall and down the stairs to where the two adults sat in the living room quietly discussing. She made her way down, slowly taking each step of the stair case and ran up to the woman with long dark locks who sat pensively staring at her husband, unaware of the child's presence._

_"We can't afford to have them both," the man sighed. His fingers massaged his temple in frustration as he closed his eyes._

_"How are we going to tell her?" the woman asked her husband. She had her hands crossed over her lap, a frown creasing her forehead and lips._

_"Mommy mommy! Look what I drew!" The small child happily announced. She waved the piece of paper she held up in the air, trying to grab the woman's attention._

_The woman's concerned expression quickly disappeared as she turned to face the small child. "What is it Emma?" she asked with a kind smile._

_"It's a picture of all of us," Emma proudly grinned and pointed at the picture. "See there's daddy, you and me. It's our family," she giggled. She had spent the entire morning up in her room working on the portrait of her new family. There was a drawing of a man on the left side, a woman on the right side, and a small blonde girl standing between the two holding each of their hands. The brightly colored sun had a smile on it as it hovered over the three people who stood in front a small house. "_

_My Family," was written on the bottom right corner of the drawing._

_"Do you like it, mommy?" Emma asked, her eyes were hopeful along with the innocent smile she wore. The woman seemed to choke on her own saliva when the bright green eyes looked up at her__._

_"Honey, we have something to tell," the man spoke, diverting the child's attention away from the woman's tearful face. "We have some very important news," he smiled down at the little girl, opening his arms up for her to climb up to._

_Emma giggled and ran up to the man to sit on his lap. "Do you like it daddy?" she asked raising the drawing to show the man her masterpiece. She'd only been at the home for a week but already she felt at home. For the first time in her three years she felt hope that she'd finally found the place to call home._

_"It's beautiful, sweetie," he smiled._

_Emma giggled again at the response and hugged the picture to herself. Bright green eyes looked up at the man curious as to what the important could be._

_"What is it, daddy?" Emma asked when she noticed the man's smile turned into a small frown. He quickly composed himself and returned the small smile Emma offered him._

_"You're going to see all your brothers and sisters back at the home very soon," he announced with as much enthusiasm as he could muster._

_Emma's smile fell as she tried to understand why she'd be seeing the foster kids again. Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Are they coming to visit?" she asked innocently._

_The man's frown returned when he realized he was going to break the news in a different way. "No, Emma they're not coming to visit. Your mother and I thought it'd be best if you went back to visit them for a little while," he looked up at the woman who was trying her best not to show her discomfort._

_Emma tried to understand what the man was telling her. They wanted her to visit the foster home? But hadn't she just left the place a week ago? There had been a few occasions when some of the kids had returned on a "visit" and never left soon after their family's' had dropped them off claiming to return for them soon. But soon never happened, their family's never returned to pick them up. Emma had grown to understand that once their family's' dropped them off at the foster home, they would not be returning for them._

_Emma had never understood why that happened but as she began to concentrate on the news she realized what her father was telling her. Green eyes grew wide. "You don't want me anymore?" she quietly asked, her bottom lip trembled with disappointment. She clutched the drawing to her chest._

_The woman shook her head as she knelt beside the small blonde child. "That's not it Emma. Of course we want you. But," she looked at her husband who gave her an encouraging nod, and continued. "We're starting our own family now, Emma." The woman placed her hand over her flat belly. "And well we just can't keep you both, honey."_

_Tears slipped down the pale cheeks. "I'll be good mommy, I promise!" Emma assured her. "I'll be good." She looked up at the man and then back at the woman, trying her best to change their mind. The picture fell to the ground, long forgotten as she tried to think of a way to show them she'd be a good little girl._

_The woman stood and turned away unable to handle the child's innocent words. The man moved to stand and knelt before the little girl. "Emma, sweetie we need to run upstairs and get your coat."_

_Emma shook her head trying to convince them she'd change, she'd be good, she'd behave. She looked up at the woman who was trying desperately not to look down at her and ran up to her. "Please don't make me go!" She cried "Please mommy! This is my home! You're my family!" she pleaded, green eyes shining with continuous tears._

_The man sighed and stood up. "Sweetie run up and get your coat now so we can take you home." He said as he led Emma away from the woman and in the direction of the stairs._

_The small child's shoulders fell in defeat as she nodded and did what she was told._

_"She'll be okay," Emma heard the man say. "She's a big girl."_

_Emma sniffled as she made it to the top of the stairs. She turned once more to look at the couple. The man had a hand over the woman's stomach, a smile rising across his lips as he looked down to where his hand rested. The woman seemed to be smiling, too as she looked down. They were happier without her. Emma couldn't stop the tears that slipped down her small pale cheeks as she turned away. She slowly made her way to her room and grabbed her coat. The drawings taped along the walls were quickly gathered and folded, stored away in the pocket of her coat._

_She took one final look at the small bedroom before dragging her small feet up the hall and down the stairs. Carefully taking each step, she kept her gaze down as she returned to where her parents stood waiting. She stood between them with her coat unbuttoned, her eyes fixed on the ground._

_The woman knelt down to button up her coat before pressing a quick kiss to the child's forehead._

_"I'm sorry I wasn't good, mommy," Emma whispered with a frown as the man took her hand and led her out of the house._

_"Looks like no one wants you, Miss Swan," Mrs. Thurman whispered to the little girl as they stood on the porch of the foster home watching the man drive away. The small three year old could only frown further as she did her best not to cry. Her chest felt really heavy as she hugged the drawings to herself. Of course they didn't, she told herself. If her own parents didn't want her, why would some complete strangers want her?_

_As a tear slipped down the three years old's cheeks Emma realized no one would ever want her. She'd be alone for the rest of her life._

_"Miss Swan!" the voice sounded familiar. It didn't belong to the elder woman staring down at her with an angry scowl on her face. Emma wasn't sure if it was part of her memory or if it was real._

"_Miss Swan_, _Emma_. Emma!" the voice was near as Emma came out of her sleepy haze. A whimper slipped out of the blonde woman's lips. She turned on her side, her eyes watering in her sleepy state.

"Emma," the voice said again.

"Regina?" the groggy woman questioned. Green eyes fluttered open and looked up at the woman kneeling beside her. "What happened? Is something wrong?" Emma asked quickly sitting up in panic.

"No, everyone is still asleep," Regina assured her. "You were…you were crying," she cleared her throat as she sat up right to give the woman room to breathe.

Emma felt herself blush as the mayor's eyes averted elsewhere. "I was…oh" she raised her hand and realized that she had tears trailing down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away and did her best to compose herself. She looked around and noticed her parents, along with the pirate, were indeed still sound asleep. She wasn't sure why the woman who had been sleeping on the opposite side of the camping grounds had been the one to wake at the sound of her crying. Why hadn't her parents awoken?

_Because they don't care,_ a voice in the back of her head told her. Emma frowned. Maybe they didn't care. _Why should they?_ The mocking voice asked.

"Are you okay?" Regina hesitantly asked when they noticed the hurt expression the sheriff wore.

She'd been startled awake by the blonde woman's whimpering. The sound had been so soft she'd almost believed she'd imagined it, but as she sat up she'd heard it again in the infuriating woman's direction. The two idiots had been oblivious to their daughter distress. Regina had quietly made her way across the site to where the sheriff had been laying, strangely shivering even with the thick blanket she had over herself. The woman had been crying into her arm in her sleep.

At first Regina had believed Emma was awake, but soon after she attempted to get her attention, she realized the woman was indeed crying in her sleep.

Emma brushed back the hairs away from her face as she did her best to compose herself. "I'm fine," she mumbled still feeling embarrassed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Regina offered. To her surprise the woman herself was as shocked at the question as was the blonde woman who now sat with her mouth open.

The woman appeared to be contemplating the question for a moment before finally deciding her final answer. "No, I'm okay. Thank you." She sounded almost like a child as she answered. Meeting once more the brown eyes Emma spoke again. "I'm sorry I woke you."

Again Regina noticed how small the usually confident woman sounded. Why did she sound like that? Had she been dreaming of something she was still frightened by?

Regina nodded nevertheless deciding it was best not to press on the matter and stood. "It's all right, dear. Have a good night," she said with a soft smile before returning to her side of the camp. Hesitantly Regina lay back, forcing herself not to look over her shoulder to where the young woman remained wide awake. The former mayor was curious about why Emma had been crying in her sleep. During their journey from Storybrooke to Neverland the woman had slept soundlessly in the bunk room they had been forced to share due to the limited amount of room. Why then was the woman now having bad dreams? Regina wondered if the peasant mermaid had been responsible for the young blonde's discomfort.

For some reason Regina couldn't understand, she felt upset by whatever had caused Emma to cry during her sleep. She'd only ever seen the woman cry once since have met her, and even then it had been under the same circumstances that Regina herself had been crying. She didn't understand why it bothered her so much to see the woman so upset. Emma had been completely heartbroken when she awoke. For just a second Regina had managed to see the torn look in the dark tearful green eyes. She'd looked so fragile, almost like a child. Emma had been quick to compose herself before Regina had the chance to read more into the expression she wore. The woman was a big girl. Whatever was bothering her Regina was sure she could handle on her own. She sighed burring her face against the pillow. She could handle it right? She did her best to ignore the question as she tried to fall asleep once more.

Emma remained sitting up and watched as the woman walked away. She'd be lying if she said she'd been okay with Regina not pressing her on the matter, but she understood. Emma had learned a long time ago to deal with her nightmares on her own. She was thankful the woman decided not to press on the matter. It would only stir up more unwanted emotions for the sheriff.

Deciding sleep was out of the question, Emma stood up and stretched. As she began to walk over to the isolated part of the camp she frowned when the sound of children crying was once more heard. She looked over to where the mayor lay and frowned when she found the woman was already asleep, the cries all going unheard.

She sighed and decided to explore further where she'd met the boy earlier during the night.

"So you're back," the amused voice spoke behind Emma.

Emma rolled her eyes knowing well who it was that the voice belonged to. "What do you want?" she growled in annoyance as she turned to face the boy. "Unless you're here to tell me how the damn map works we have nothing to discuss."

Peter smirked and stepped away from the tree. "It's working," he said glancing down at the woman's pouch, where the map remained.

Emma raised a brow. She took out the map and unfolded. She furrowed her brows in confusion upon seeing what looked like a trail on the piece of paper. "How is that possible?"

Peter laughed. "I told you. It'll only work when you begin to accept who you really are, Emma." He grinned. "You know who you are all you have to do is accept."

"I don't understand," Emma began.

"Yes you do," Peter cut her off. "If that dream of yours is anything to go by, you're warmer than you know, Emma." He smirked.

Green eyes grew wide. "How do you know what I dreamed about?"

Peter chuckled. "Come on, Emma. We all have bad dreams. It's nothing to be ashamed about." He walked around to stand beside her. Emma turned to face him once more, not wanting to give the boy an advantage over her.

"So tell me. How did it feel when your first family gave you back?" Peter asked raising a brow. His grin grew when he noted the way the blonde woman's face fell. Her green eyes fought to keep the tears from rising as the feeling of that day hit Emma.

"How the hell do you know about that?" Emma growled.

Peter laughed. "Hey you're upset at them not me," he reminded. "Did it hurt to have them tell you they didn't want you because they were starting their own family?" he smirked. "I mean you'd spent the entire morning working on that picture of the three of you only to have them tell you they didn't want you." He pursed his lips in mock disappointment.

Emma was struggling to breathe as the memory hit her. She remembered it all too clearly. How she'd been so excited to show them the picture she'd drawn, how the woman had looked at her with a sad smile and how the man had told her she'd be visiting the foster home again because they were starting a family of their own.

"_We just can't keep you both,"_ the woman had told her.

"They didn't even bother to look at your drawing," Peter reminded the woman as her shook his head. "A shame really. I think it's quite good," he said looking down at a piece of paper he now held. "Don't you think?" he asked turning the piece of paper for the woman to see.

Tearful green eyes stared at the boy speechless. He was holding the picture she'd been excited to show her parents back then. She took the piece of paper from him and stared at it unable to form a word. It was the exact drawing she made when she was three. The three people stood in front of a house holding hands. On the bottom right corner were the words she'd written with a bright red crayon; _My Family_.

"They can do the same thing, too, you know," he nodded in the direction of the camp site. "Think about it Emma. Why would your parents want you now? You're not a kid anymore. They can have a kid anytime they want." His dark eyes sparkled in the moonlight when the woman's mouth open and closed, speechless to the comment. "They'll just wind up breaking your heart again. Can you really go through that again?" Peter continued as he noticed the tears falling down pale cheeks.

Emma felt a pang of pain in her chest as the words dawned on her. He was right. They didn't want her. They _couldn't _want her. They would _never_ her want, just like her first family, they'd eventually wind up starting their own family and forget about her. Unlike the prior family who returned her to the foster house, they'd just leave her alone again. They'd abandon her in time. Emma could feel the pain returning to her, the one she'd first felt when her first mother and father had announced she'd be returning back to the foster home. Home. The system had never been her home. She'd be returning to her old _home_.

"Looks like no one wants you, Miss Swan," Peter whispered into her ear; Mrs. Thurman's words, echoing in the woman's head. Emma collapsed then on her knees, the image clutched in her hands.

"The sooner you accept who you are, Emma and the sooner you'll find your son," Peter quietly reminded her.

Emma ignored his words as she continued to stare at the drawing, remembering how many times she'd thought about the picture. How she'd felt her world crash the moment her new family decided they didn't want her anymore. She'd felt so lost then, just as lost as she was feeling once again with her actual parents now in her life. She felt like a lost girl in the world, all on her own to fend for herself.

Peter Pan gave the distracted blonde a sinister smile before disappearing into a puff of gray smoke, leaving the woman to quietly cry alone in the middle of the forest.

* * *

**AN:** Okay so this sparked after I saw the sneak peek for the Lost Girl episode. Definitely a different direction.

It'll probably get darker before it gets better.

**Swan Quee**n eventually ;1

What did you think?

Did you like it? Hate it?

Let me know what you thought.

Shall I continue it? ;)

**You know what to do!**


End file.
